Of All The Bars In All The Galaxy
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: Bela Talbot's quick score goes awry, leaving her stranded on an unfamiliar planet. Her plans to steal her way off said planet are interrupted when she meets a handsome stranger in a crowded cantina. (A "The Planets Bend Between Us" prequel oneshot / Star Wars AU)


**A/n:** Honestly, I had way too much fun writing _Planets_ and always toyed with the idea of doing a little prequel oneshot of some description. So here it is (completed for Beta Branch's Word Limit Challenge). This can totally be read as a standalone (but of course I recommend reading the full epic. ;D)

Big thank you to the ever wonderful **gryfndor_godess** and to my cyclone Hope ( **ThatGypsyWriter** ) at **The Beta Branch** for their top notch beta skillz. \o/

 _For: my-spirit-animal-is-the-impala. Pie, thank you for loving Planets so, so much – I cannot ever express just how much your reviews and messages mean to me, seriously. This is for you. \o/_

* * *

 **Of All The Bars In All The Galaxy  
** _A "The Planets Bend Between Us" prequel oneshot_

Garos was not the most interesting planet she'd been stranded on, but it could've been worse. At least there were plenty of places to lay low and dodge unwanted Imperial attention.

Bela Talbot squeezed between patrons in the crowded cantina and settled down at a small empty table to the side of the bar with a huff. She was going to kill Balthazar if he was ever unfortunate enough to cross paths with her again.

Getting the crates they'd been hired to nab hadn't been a problem, but escaping was. Apparently the cargo had been marked, so Balthazar's ship had barely reached Vegra's city limits before a host of Imperials were on their ass. Balthazar had doubled back and managed to lose the troopers in the twisty, maze-like alleys of the P'tiithe District.

He ground the cargo speeder to a halt.

"We should cut and run," Bela advised, glancing over her shoulder. It'd be easier to hide from the Imperials separately. As long as they both made it to the rendezvous the following day, they'd both still get their share of the credits.

Balthazar drew his blaster. "That's what I'm doing, love." He swung the business end of the weapon her way. "I never intended to share, you know."

Bela glared and reluctantly disembarked the speeder. He gestured to her pockets, which Bela grouchily emptied, passing him her credit stick.

"You bastard," she grumbled. Honestly, she mostly was mad that she hadn't cut out Balthazar first.

"Ta, darling," Balthazar said with a cock of his head. He took off, leaving her in his dust with no money, no transport, no prospects, and at least dozen Imperials hunting for a thief matching her description.

She leaned back in her chair and curled her fingers around her glass. She'd been laying low in the city for three days since, doing careful recon. The nicer parts of town were much heavier patrolled, so her best bet to steal some credits and barter her way off this planet would be found somewhere less-than-reputable.

Which brought her here.

 _Damn Balthazar,_ she thought again. As soon as she was off this rock, she'd fire off a message to Ree to let her know that she was okay and that Balthazar was officially on their metaphorical hit list.

Bela's lazy gaze trailed over the packed cantina. It was hazy and dim, brimming with creatures and humans from all over the galaxy. She sipped her Polanis Red, enjoying the warmth that spread down her throat as she swallowed, then set the drink back down. There were better, more expensive drinks on the menu, but the Polanis did the trick.

A Farghul sauntered by her table, giving her an appraising nod. She smiled in return, hoping he'd come make small talk – his attire, fine fabric accessorized with shining armor, suggested he had credits. Though Bela tapped her fingers against her glass, a tad impatient and more than a little bored, she knew from experience that it paid to sit back and let others come to her. That way, it was much easier to let them think whatever happened from there was their idea.

The Farghul passed her by and she skimmed her eyes through the place, searching for another target. At the bar, edging his way between a pair of Gotals, came a human male. Bela hastily took a sip of her wine to cover the way her mouth had parted at the sight of him. He was tall, muscular, 5 o'clock shadow, with brown hair that seemed to have a golden shine to it under the bar's pot lights. Frankly, he was gorgeous, and she didn't hide the way she was checking him out.

He scooped up his drink from the counter and turned around to survey the room with sharp eyes. He had a way about him that suggested he was here for something specific and she wondered what it was. Company, perhaps? Transportation? Something more nefarious? His stance was carefully relaxed and she got the impression that he didn't normally frequent such seedy establishments, yet knew his way around one nonetheless.

His gaze snagged on her and she held it, offering him a small smile. She glanced away in the next second, as if unconcerned whether he returned her look or not. The better to make him curious.

He took his sweet time – finished his first drink, ordered a second, and moved around the place chatting up the other patrons – but he finally made his way to her table.

"Hi," he greeted. His grin was wide and handsome, and Bela was surprised to feel a flutter in her gut. "Are you waiting for someone?"

Bela squashed the sensation before it could take root and throw her off her game. "Just you," she said coyly.

He ducked his head and gave a little laugh that was one part smug and two parts endearingly genuine. He glanced over his shoulder and sat down like he was making a decision.

"I've got some time," he said. "So, where're you from?"

"Oh, you first." She tilted her head towards him with a practiced, teasing smile. The last thing she needed was to accidentally name the same place this random stranger was from.

He sat back in his chair. "Somewhere far away."

"How about that," she replied with another smirk. "Me too."

She studied him. His clothes were nice but not too nice – definitely had been repaired in a few places. He had a faint scar on his hand and this close up, she could see how green his eyes were. Like rain forests of Yavin, green. That flicker sprang up to her chest as he watched her, too. Bela buried it.

"And what brings you to this lovely spot on Garos?" she asked.

"Just looking for a drink," he answered and took a sip. His gaze stayed locked on hers.

He was being cautious, but the way his eyes sparkled betrayed his interest. Oh, she could work with that.

"Me too," she repeated, lips quirking up at the corners. "It's been awhile since I've had the chance to have a nice, quiet drink with some decent company."

"You call this quiet?"

The Sandoorians playing sabaac in the corner roared and pounded the table. One of the servo droids manning the tables crashed into a boisterous Sorrusians, sending a couple empty glasses crashing to the floor.

Bela shrugged.

"Well, quieter than some," she admitted with a laugh. "Quieter than the docks at the east end of Gevis."

"I think sitting next to a Destroyer engine might be quieter than the east docks in Gevis." He guzzled back the last of his dark-colored beer.

 _Interesting_ , she thought. Generally only the scum of the galaxy touched down in Gevis's docks. So what kind of scum was this guy? Or what had he been mixed up in that brought him to such a place? _Or to a place like this_? she wondered. But it was a puzzle for another day. For now, all she needed to do was earn his trust enough that she could make off with his wallet.

Bela ordered a second drink and her handsome new friend paid for it while he got himself another beer.

She thanked him, then asked, "So what do you do for a living?" She watched him over her glass as she drank.

"I work with a team of people coming up with solutions to complicated problems," he told her.

His eyes twinkled like he was sharing a private joke and she wondered what he really did for a living. Bounty hunter perhaps? Hired assassin?

"I have to travel a lot for my work," he continued. "So I get to see a lot of things, meet a lot of different people. What about you?"

"Oh, I do little odd jobs for people to get by." She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Transport from one system to another, that kind of thing."

He chuckled. "Appropriately vague."

"Right back at you." She raised an eyebrow and twirled her finger. "Have you seen this place? It's not the kind of place you go around giving out your life story, now is it?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. She had the sudden need for those arms to be around her. She tossed back the last of her Polanis – _That one went quick, didn't it?_ she noted with surprise. She ordered a third.

"No, that's true," he agreed.

A pair of Reshkulls started up a shouting match by the door and almost came to blows before the bartender got involved. They left sulking and the ambient noise rose again.

The stranger set his elbows on the table and leaned forward.

"So what brings somebody like you to a place like this?" He slowly, unabashedly raked his eyes over her as he spoke. Her skin prickled under his pointed attention.

"Just a pit stop," Bela said readily.

It wasn't supposed to be – damn Balthazar. She hadn't been keen on partnering with the fellow merc in the first place, but the money was good and the job supposedly quick – simple grab and transport. With the gangster Lillith scooping up territory after territory in the Outer Rim, it was getting harder and harder to earn a living as a dishonest smuggler.

"What about yourself?" She cocked her head, keeping her tone light. "Or is this the kind of scum you usually associate with?"

"Just visiting a friend," he replied. The corners of his eyes wrinkled – the quiver in her chest grew.

"Of course you are." She accepted her next Polanis from the servodroid.

They danced through small talk for the better part of an hour. She was a great liar and could spot her kind, could sense he was only telling her half-truths at best, but she never called him on it. There wasn't a need. She didn't care who he was or what he was running from (or to) – she just wanted his money.

By the end of her third drink and his fourth, he'd moved from the seat across from her to the seat beside her. Supposedly, to inspect the dainty woven bracelet she was wearing. Really, to be closer to her, and she didn't mind in the slightest.

Bela bumped her shoulder against his, acting a little drunker than she actually was as he tugged her wrist close to check out the circlet. She shouldn't have downed that entire third Polanis, but she was curiously comfortable with him.

"It was made for me." She didn't take her arm away from where it pressed against his. "By a good friend of mine." (It wasn't – it was some random trinket she'd swiped from a market in Kalabra City.)

He traced his finger over the plain brown leather, shot through with black and crimson threads. "It's cool – unique."

Bela smiled up at him, her gaze jumping to his lips. His cheeks were a little flushed as he toyed with the bracelet. He fingers slid from the leather onto her skin and he made small circles with his thumb. Bela fought off a shiver.

She met his wonderful green eyes. With her free hand, she reached up to touch his hair, softly trailing her fingers through it. He leaned into her touch and Bela swallowed as heat swirled behind her ribs. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and instead took the plunge, darting forward to kiss her.

 _Finally_ , she thought, kissing him back hard and deep.

He released her wrist to slide his arm around her waist. Bela skimmed her hands over his biceps, across his shoulders, and to his neck. He drew her closer. She kept one hand on his neck while the other snaked down his chest.

She'd planned to snag his wallet by the time he started kissing her. She'd intended to pull back and feign dizziness once she slipped his wallet into her pocket while he was distracted. She'd make her escape, easy as pie, and the poor sod would figure out what happened eventually. But damn if he wasn't a rather phenomenal kisser and _damn_ if she wasn't rather… enjoying herself. She stayed her hand from going for his pocket.

He backed away first to catch his breath, his hands still gently pressed against her back. Her lips tingled and she _did_ feel a little dizzy, in the best way possible.

"Do you want to… get out of here?" he asked in a low, husky tone that sent another shiver rocketing down Bela's spine.

She could just as easily steal from him later, Bela reasoned. She could have some fun – she _deserved_ some fun, even. It would certainly beat spending another night in the women's shelter she'd camped in the past few nights. She could make off with his wallet any time she pleased. And if that happened to be the morning after… well.

Why the hell not?

* * *

They disembarked from his speeder and he led the way to his motel room nearby. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the little brown and white vehicle. It was a bit beat-up looking but it'd run well and probably would fetch a solid price. She added _speeder starter_ to her list of things she'd be stealing in the morning.

He was on her the moment the door shut behind her and she kissed him back fiercely, relishing the heat and desire rippling through her. She imagined his fingers leaving trails of sparks everywhere he touched her. She pulled impatiently at his shirt and he doffed it in short order.

Bela moaned into his mouth as she explored his upper body. Her earlier assessment that he was _gorgeous_ still held up – he wasn't ridiculously muscled, but toned in just the right way to feel perfect under her wandering hands. He planted kisses along her jaw and eased her onto the bed.

He smelled intoxicating – some sort of musky combination of sage and cedarwood and something she couldn't identify – and Bela drank it in. He tugged her shirt over her head and recaptured her mouth with his. Bela laced her fingers in his hair, gently scratching her nails across his scalp.

"You know," he said into her neck, then pressed another delicious kiss against her skin. "I never did… catch… your name."

Bela bit her lip to trap another moan threatening to escape. "Considering," she managed. His lips trailed along her collarbone and on to her breasts. "We're never going to… _oh…_ see each other again… does it… really matter… darling?"

"Fair enough," he replied. He gripped her hips, holding her to the bed, and kissed his way down her stomach.

She relished the way he moved over her and took care of her. She savored the way her skin felt against his, the way he breathed into her hair, and pressed her into the mattress. The way he didn't cuddle her after, but kept his gorgeous hand draped over her bare stomach as they caught their breath and their senses rejoined the world.

Bela was nearly asleep when she heard him whisper, "It's Dean, by the way. My name is Dean." He planted the softest of kisses to her exposed shoulder.

She kept her eyes closed and pretended she never noticed a thing.

* * *

Bela rubbed her hand over bleary eyes. Last night had been – well, if she was being truly honest, it'd been rather exceptional. The first exceptional night she'd had in a very long time.

She turned her head to look at Dean, drinking in the details of his face as he slept. His long lashes, beautiful jaw, fantastic lips… It was a shame, really. He was terribly lovely.

But Bela didn't do attachments. Attachments were weakness, they were dangerous. There was no question about it, wonderful though he may have been. Besides, in her experience, they were always lovely in the beginning and turned out to be rats down the road, so why bother? One good night, one good memory, and that was all she needed. So she took one last long look at Dean's handsome face and, still smiling, she slipped out of the bed to get dressed.

She tip-toed around the room gathering her things. She found the starter for his speeder and snuck it into her pocket. The vehicle wasn't much but would at least get her to Tressioli, the nearest spaceport, where she could trade it for some credits and a spot on a non-Imperial-friendly ride out of here. Once she set down somewhere far from here, she'd be able to get in contact with Ree and regroup. Then it'd be back to business as usual and she could put Balthazar and this whole Garos mess behind her.

Bela exhaled in a rush as she tugged her shirt on. She stepped across the room and hesitated at the door, a wicked idea stealing over her. She glanced back at Dean, still dead to the world on the bed, and her grin widened.

Bela snatched up his pants from the floor and tossed them over her arm. She bit back a giggle. On a whim, she slipped off her bracelet and set it on the nightstand.

"Goodbye, darling," she whispered and snuck out of the room.

 **-end-**

* * *

 **A/n:** I am 100% describing Dean as smelling like the Mountain Lodge Yankee Candle (ie. tumblr's Boyfriend Candle) and I am 1000% not even sorry. He just does (and anybody who's smelled this candle will understand XD). Thanks for reading!


End file.
